Jealousy
by Pho3niX
Summary: The boys are out to seduce their little witch. Hermione Granger belongs to them, whether she knows it or not, and Draco and Blaise don't like to share. DMHGBZ.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or You've Got Mail.

**Jealousy**

_Chapter 1_

Hermione smoothed down her jumper and knocked on the door. While she waited, she stamped her feet and rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the chill seeping through her clothes. She noticed a thin dusting of white streaked across her shoulders and dusted the snow off, just before the door opened. Hermione looked up, meeting the gaze of strikingly blue eyes.

"Hermione," Blaise Zabini murmured, sweeping into an elegant bow as he raised her hand to press a kiss to the delicate skin. Surprised, Hermione felt herself blushing profusely at the overdone greeting. Blaise straightened, caught the light red suffusing her cheeks and winked roguishly.

"Er…" Hermione stuttered, feeling her face heat up at the attractive Italian's attentions.

Blaise's smile widened, looking pleased at her reaction. "It's good to see you again, _bella_."

Hermione laughed. "You too, Blaise." He still held her hand in a warm, firm grip. Hermione tactfully decided not to comment on it.

"Bloody hell, Blaise, it's _cold_." A petulant voice petered out from somewhere inside the manor.

Blaise and Hermione exchanged a wry look as feet sounded on the stairs. A moment later, Draco Malfoy, wearing a particularly sour look, padded into the entrance hall. He brightened momentarily at seeing their visitor before remembering to scowl pointedly at the open door.

"Don't stand there like an idiot, Granger, get inside already," Draco grumbled at the brunette witch.

Blaise shot Draco a warning look. "Draco, be nice." He gently ushered Hermione inside, spreading his hand almost possessively over the small of her back. Both men saw the young woman colour slightly again, Draco waggling his eyebrows at Blaise behind the witch's back when she turned slightly. Blaise's mouth quirked upwards on one side, looking remarkably satisfied. Firmly quelling the urge to smirk, Draco strode past and led the way into the sitting room, then headed off towards the kitchen.

Blaise sat down beside her on the nearest couch, settling her down next to a pile of soft, inky-black pillows. His arm slid up her back to languidly drape across her shoulders. Draco reappeared, bearing a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

"Here," the blonde man said, shoving the cup towards her rudely. When Hermione merely started in surprise and didn't reach for it, he growled at her gruffly. "Did I make this for you for nothing? Drink it, Granger." He sat down in the armchair near the couch, scowling at her.

She scowled at his tone, but obediently took the mug from him and sipped slowly. The milky chocolate smoothness rolled around her tongue, tasting absolutely divine. She sighed softly in appreciation and opened her eyes – _when had they closed_? – to find Blaise and Draco staring at her with mixed expressions on their faces.

"What?" She asked them, feeling self-conscious.

Draco exhaled slowly from his nose. "Nothing, Granger."

She glanced at their empty hands, and raised an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you two are actually holding off on the hot chocolate?"

Blaise smiled. "Of course not, we had some earlier."

"Oh," Hermione mouthed softly.

"So, what are your plans now that you're back home?" Blaise changed the subject fluidly.

"Well," Hermione sighed, "I've been offered a really good job here, researching healing potions." She smiled, then added enthusiastically, "they even said in the interview that they were considering opening up a branch to deal with integrating Muggle and Wizarding medicine."

Draco's lip curled. "Integrate Muggle butchery with real healing?" He looked genuinely appalled at the thought.

Hermione shot him a glare – _the prat_ – even as Blaise not-so-subtly kicked him. Draco yowled and jerked his leg up, rubbing his injured shin and sending Blaise a wounded look. Blaise let his foot rise up an inch from the ground. Eyeing it, Draco got the hint and closed his mouth, swallowing his other remarks.

"What I don't understand, though," Hermione mused, ignoring the sulking Malfoy entirely, "is why my old employer actually let me leave."

Blaise shared a glance with Draco, then swivelled his eyes back to her. "Oh?" He inquired mildly.

Hermione frowned and didn't notice the absurdly smug look on Draco's face. "I'd wanted to change jobs, but my boss kept sending away offers before I got near them and even tried to tell one interested employer that I was incompetent." Blaise shot her a look, and Hermione added, "I didn't tell you two about it at the time," – mainly because she knew the overprotective men had nasty vindictive streaks – "but I spoke to Hannah Abbott about it. She had similar problems, actually." Her frown deepened but she missed the seething looks the males exchanged.

"Of course," she continued, "I tried to set things straight, but I'd signed a contract with the previous boss and Baxtor insisted I couldn't quit because of some 'technicality' about a non-existent infringement." She scowled. "His argument was completely bogus, so I thought I'd have to contact a lawyer but he suddenly dropped the issue and let me resign."

"Perhaps somebody interceded on your behalf," Draco drawled out, examining his nails and looking supremely bored with the long-winded tale.

"Well, yes, I suppose so," she said vaguely. "But who – and why?" she added, frowning in thought.

"Does it matter?" Blaise interjected smoothly.

"Well, I would like to thank them," She paused for a moment and furrowed her brow in thought, "and ask them how they did it, of course."

"I'm sure if they wanted to listen to soppy thanks they'd show themselves," Draco said dismissively. "Do you think we could get off the topic that's about as interesting as Flobberworms racing?"

"_Well_ – " Hermione began hotly, but was cut off by Blaise.

"I sense an argument brewing," Blaise said teasingly. He quirked an eyebrow at Hermione. "Now that we finally have you alone, I don't suppose you'd like to just have a casual night in?"

Hermione smiled, irritation at Draco's comment forgotten. "Only if you've got a decent movie to watch."

Draco snorted, but Blaise returned the smile, winking at Hermione. "Your average…er…chicken flock, was it?" Draco groaned and thumped his head on the back of the couch.

Hermione choked back a snort of laughter, suddenly understanding Draco's latest peeve. "Chick flick," she supplied after a moment of struggling to contain her amusement.

"Right," Blaise said, not looking embarrassed at all by the correction. Catching the way Hermione's face contorted with her effort to stay quiet, he allowed his smile to turn crooked. "Draco wanted an action movie."

The pale man sank lower into the couch, somehow managing to make his pout childish but his posture incredibly sexy. Hermione absently noted that the way his hair fell into his eyes probably didn't help matters nor the way his lips looked when he sulked. She forced her eyes away from him, flushing at the direction of her gaze. What was wrong with her? Draco and Blaise were her friends, she firmly reminded herself.

Stormy grey eyes slanted a look at the now red-faced brunette beneath pale eyelashes. "Something wrong, Granger?" He drawled.

"Er – no, nothing," Hermione muttered hastily, then straightened and smiled rather forcefully. "So – how about watching 'You've Got Mail'?"

"What kind of title is that?" Draco sneered. "Trust Muggles to think of something so foolish."

Hermione's right eyebrow twitched, before she turned her head to glare at Malfoy. "Oh, yes," she drawled sarcastically in an almost perfect copy of him, "and wizards are just _so_ much better at naming things. 'Cockroach Clusters' – I can only presume the maker had no intention of wanting them to sell if they gave it a name like that. And oh, what about 'The Magic Of Sex', what an _inventive_ and _completely_ non-corny title that is."

Draco sat up straight, tossing his hair back to give her a haughty look. "You, Granger, simply have no idea how to appreciate Wizarding Society."

Hermione bristled at him and opened her mouth to snarl something at the arrogant Pureblood, but Blaise intervened. "Hermione, you know Draco's a git sometimes, forgive him." Draco sputtered, looking offended. Blaise shot him a look, and then winked at him mischievously before turning back to the witch. "Care to tell us what you know about that book, Hermione?"

Draco, bad mood forgotten, leant his elbows on his knees and smirked at the squirming witch. "Been looking up sex spells, have we?" His voice lowered an octave. "Granger, Granger…if you wanted advice you could have asked us." He leered at her.

Hermione wasn't in the least worried about that leer. She knew very well where Draco's preferences lay. With an effort, she quelled her desire to squirm around and avoid her friends' gazes. "Of course I haven't read the silly book. Lavender and Parvati had a copy of it back at school."

"Maybe you should, Granger," Draco smirked. "You look a bit uptight. A night of wild shagging would be excellent for you."

Hermione stiffened. "_Uptight_? And I hardly think I need to walk out and have some random sha – _sexual escapade_ with some stranger I'd pick up from bar or something," she huffed indignantly.

"'Sexual escapade'? Granger, you really are a prude." Draco mocked, a sharp smile spreading across his face, enjoying the challenge of riling the ex-Gryffindor.

"Now, now, children," Blaise placated, spreading his hands out in front of the arguing pair. "Play nice," he added to Draco in a murmur. Raising his voice again, he ambled over to the shelves by the wall and plucked out the DVD 'You've Got Mail'. He cocked an eyebrow at the others. "Shall we?"

Hermione flashed him a grateful smile for successfully heading off the argument, and rose to her feet, following Blaise into the lounge room to watch the movie, Draco stomping in behind them, muttering under his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I'm back! With a very random update. My apologies for the delay. Hopefully, this time my muse sticks around for longer…

And for those who asked: Yes, this will eventually be a DM-HG-BZ pairing. At the moment, however, Hermione is single and Draco and Blaise are in a relationship (I don't think I made it very clear whether they were friends or more at this stage of the story…)

So, a warning to those who don't like FMM or MM pairings – this isn't the story for you!

For those who, like me, are fans of a little Dramionaise goodness, read on!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or You've Got Mail.

**

* * *

**

**Jealousy**

_Chapter 2_

Hermione leant back in her chair and sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily.

Beside her, Terry Boot shook his head in frustration. "I don't know why it keeps failing. According to our calculations, it should have worked."

Susan Bones, still bent over the ruined cauldron, morosely poked at the mess with a spare stirring rod. "I agree. The theory was completely sound."

"Maybe we missed something," Hermione suggested.

"We all double-checked those calculations," Susan pointed out. "Surely one of us would have picked up on a mistake."

Hermione bit her lip, deep in thought. "Maybe… it's not so much that the calculations are wrong, but that our expectations of how the ingredients will react are not entirely correct."

Terry sat up straight. "You're saying that we've stumbled onto a combination that would change the Reactivity Order set by the Potions Committee in 1987?"

Susan's eyes were alight. "It makes sense! We're dealing with a whole new branch of healing potions, experimenting with combinations that have never been attempted before. It's entirely possible that such a new combination exists. I mean, before the R.O., there were heaps of amendments to reactivity concepts made by potions masters who found out whilst creating new potions."

"If we're right, then we need to start testing."

"If we can isolate the ingredients responsible, we'll be line for the first amendment to the R.O. _ever_," Terry said excitedly.

"And, we'll be able to attempt further experimentation with substitutes, maybe even find the solution this time!"

Hermione smiled. Finally, things were looking up. Today was looking like a very good day, indeed.

*** * ***

Hermione ambled along Diagon Alley after a pleasant lunch with Terry and Susan, feeling more hopeful that their research was finally going somewhere. She paused outside Gringotts, debating whether or not to withdraw money.

From behind, a witch rudely pushed past, making Hermione stumble and drop her bag, parchment scattering haphazardly across the cobblestones. Huffing, Hermione went to bend down, only to find a wizard had knelt down to retrieve her belongings.

He stood up, light brown hair artfully mussed, and presented the bundle of parchments with a flourish.

"Er," Hermione said, automatically taking the pile and stuffing it into her bag, "Thank you…?" _Merlin, where have I seen him before?_ Hermione wondered, eyeing the familiar looking man. _Wasn't he in my year at Hogwarts?_

The man laughed. "I take it you don't remember me, Hermione." He bowed playfully. "Michael Corner, at your service."

_When were we ever on a first-name basis_? Hermione privately wondered. She sighed and gave him her best polite smile reserved for Almost-Strangers. "Er, Michael. Of course. I should have remembered."

"No offence taken, Hermione." He flashed her a too-bright smile. "But perhaps you would allow me to take you out to dinner tonight? I'd like to catch-up, for old times' sake, you know."

Hermione stared, feeling vaguely flattered that she was being asked out for the first time in years. Of course, she would have been happier if it had been someone she actually _liked_. _Didn't Ginny hex Corner in the process of dumping him back at Hogwarts_?

Hermione sighed, well aware it would be rather rude to tell the man no after he had helped her. She glanced again at Michael, who preened under her inspection. _Well, at least he's not ugly, and maybe I will have a good time_. "Dinner is fine."

*** * ***

Hermione sat down across from Michael in Witching Hour, the latest restaurant to open in Diagon Alley and the first to keep the kitchen open throughout the night. Michael beamed at her, and hastily turned to the waiter and ordered two servings of chicken leek pie. Hermione bristled in her seat, certainly not a fan of the traditional wizard-orders-for-both, but had the good grace to refrain from arguing. After all, at least he hadn't made a poor choice in food, and it would be a simple matter to take revenge quietly without sacrificing her manners so…publicly. _Merlin, but Draco is apparently a bad influence on me_.

"So," Michael turned to her with what she supposed was meant to be a delightfully charming smile, "what has Gryffindor's finest witch been up to since Hogwarts?"

_Gryffindor's finest? What happened to 'brightest witch of her age'_? As far as compliments went, it was insulting in the implication that his House had ever beaten her academically (which they hadn't, of course), and anyone who knew her at all was well aware she detested such obvious, and completely impersonal, flirtation.

Hermione sighed, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hand. _Today is no longer such a good day_. "Well, Michael, I've recently been hired by New Age Potions for medical research."

"N.A.P.?" he asked, looking perplexed for a moment. "But surely you know the only respectable way to advance in healing is through St. Mungo's?" He smiled at her. "I am sure I could convince the head of the Potions Ward to give you an interview."

Hermione gritted her teeth and smiled sweetly. "Oh, but they _did_ interview me. Twice, actually, but I refused the job both times. NAP is much more suited to my areas of research."

"But Hermione, dear, you simply won't get the proper recognition from such a new and unstable company."

_Dear_? Her eyebrow twitched. "We'll see, I suppose."

He gave her a pitying look, but was interrupted from saying anything else as their food arrived.

Hermione silently thanked the waitress for her good timing and bit into a slice of pie to avoid talking. To Hermione's delighted surprise, the pie was actually very tasty. For the next few minutes, the pair ate, talking about the latest developments to the Wolfsbane. Michael also revealed that he was studying to become a Healer, under his father's direction.

In the middle of sipping pumpkin juice, Hermione raised an eyebrow when Michael suddenly leapt to his feet, hand over his mouth and looking decidedly pale. Without a word, he bolted towards the restrooms. Her other eyebrow slowly rose to join the first.

Five minutes later found Hermione sitting alone at her table, savouring the last of her drink.

Ten minutes after that, Hermione sat, still facing the empty chair, fingers drumming against the tabletop. She wondered if she should check on him.

Twenty minutes after Michael had deserted the scene, Hermione called over a waiter and asked him to check on her friend in the male restroom. The waiter returned promptly, informing the witch that Mr Corner would regretfully have to cancel their date for tonight but he would owl her soon.

To Hermione's secret relief, no owl from Michael Corner ever did appear.

*** * ***

Hermione tilted her wine glass to her lips, taking a delicate sip. Over the rim, she eyed her date for tonight. Colin Creevey, now a reporter for the Daily Prophet, had sought her out, ostensibly to get the latest news about NAP's experimental potions. Privately, Hermione was beginning to suspect that the young man had a crush on her, considering the way he kept stuttering and sliding his hand along the table towards her own. Speaking of which… she moved her hand back an inch; the resulting despondent look on his face made her feel like she'd just kicked a puppy.

"So, Colin," she said, "I heard you got a promotion. Congratulations!" She smiled at him, pleased that a fellow Gryffindor was getting somewhere in life.

Colin, so surprised by the sudden smile and praise, promptly slopped wine down his front. Blushing, the young wizard hurriedly waved his wand at his torso. And leapt to his feet in a panic when his admittedly shaky _Scourgify_ somehow caused flames to erupt on his robes instead.

Hermione gaped, then recovered her senses and dug in her robes for her wand, casting a hasty jet of water over Colin. By the end of the fiasco, the enterprising journalist looked thoroughly miserable and quite scorched, and two waiters hovered nearby anxiously, advising medical help. Hermione eyed the burns on his chest for a moment. She stood up, offering her arm. "Here. They're right. I'd better apparate you to St. Mungo's to get those burns treated."

Twenty minutes later, Hermione apparated into her apartment, still in disbelief at how in Merlin's name Colin had managed to bungle a simple Scourgify spell so badly he hexed his robes alight.

_Well. So much for that date_.

A few days later, with no sign of Colin for a make-up interview, Hermione began to think that perhaps she had been imagining things after all, and that Colin _hadn't_ been interested in her. But he had seemed so keen to get the 'scoop' on NAP's latest projects and had asked to interview her specifically…

Rudely, Crookshanks head-butted her calves and meowed demandingly, eyeing the unopened tuna tin in her hands. Hermione smiled down at her grumpy familiar, effectively distracted from wondering about Colin's mysterious silence.

*** * ***

Curled up in the armchair closest to the fire, Hermione was watching _You've Got Mail_ for the second time that month.

"Eugh, Granger, why are you here polluting my… tee-vay – "

" – Tee-_vee_ –"

" – with that awful 'chick flock'?" Draco sneered at the couple embracing in the park on the TV, looking decidedly repulsed.

She smiled. "It's not that bad, Malfoy."

"You're right. It's downright appalling."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Trust a Malfoy to have no appreciation for the finer emotions in life."

He waggled his eyebrows at her, suddenly amused. "Malfoys have plenty of appreciation for lust, my dear, and that is a fine art indeed."

Hermione turned away before the blond man could catch her lips twitching up into a reluctant smile at his antics. She was saved from having to retort by Blaise wandering out of the kitchen to announce that dinner was ready.

Blaise cocked an eyebrow at her. "You are of course staying for dinner, love?" He held his hand out to her.

"I guess I am," she said, smiling and letting him propel her to her feet.

They followed Draco into the dining room, and Blaise settled her in her usual seat at the square four-person table, Draco to her left and Blaise opposite the blond.

Hermione breathed in the lovely aroma rising from the perfectly seasoned salmon steak nestled on garlic mash on her plate. _Blaise can definitely cook_, she mused thoughtfully, eyeing the attractive Italian man.

"How is your research going?" Blaise asked her between bites.

"We think we know why the potion keeps failing in the final stage of brewing, it's just a matter of testing which components are responsible for the instability."

Draco snorted. "Didn't you check the R.O. first?"

Hermione shot him a nasty look. "_Of course_ we take that into consideration, _and_ we used Arithmancy equations to predict the likely results, but something was still going wrong."

Blaise was nodding thoughtfully, clearly trying to work out the problem in his head, and Draco looked reluctantly interested.

"You see… we thought that maybe we might have stumbled onto a new combination of ingredients that were never explored when they formulated the R.O. We are entering completely new territory with this branch of Potion Healing."

"By 'we' you mean _you_ came up with that deduction," Draco drawled, eyes narrowed.

"Well, I… maybe," Hermione muttered.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Granger, take the credit when it's due. You don't want someone else getting recognition for _your_ work, do you?" His accompanying sneer said, _Little fool_.

Hermione scowled. "Of course not. But Terry and Susan are hardly going to do that, and besides, it's only an idea."

Draco snorted, but a warning kick under the table from Blaise prompted him to keep his mouth shut.

The potential argument averted, the three enjoyed their meal amidst friendly conversation. And if Hermione eyed the possessive touches and occasional glances shared between her two friends a little too avidly, no one mentioned it.

**TBC**


End file.
